Trust & Forgiveness
by BatFlashAquaven11
Summary: While under mind-control, Superman attacks Flash. Bruce isn't happy about it one bit. Sorry if this a jumbled mess, I don't get paid enough to proof read *insert shrug emoji* Established Batflash.


"Flash to Watchtower! Grodd got away but he did something to Supes! I'm gonna need some back-up!" Wally shouted into the comm as he used his speed to avoid another attack from his supposed ally. He wasn't used to fighting anyone with superspeed, and although Superman's top speed wasn't nearly as fast as his, something about a punch _from Superman_ coming directly towards his face at 100 miles per hour was enough to have him a little worked up. He was still reeling from the first attack from Superman, which had been unexpected and resulted in a Flash-sized dent in the side of a car, as well as possibly a fist sized dent in his face. Without enough time to dodge, he threw an arm up the block the next incoming punch and instantly regretted it. He felt as well as heard the painful snap of his right ulna. He cried out and pulled the arm back, cradling it against his body. He tried to take a deep breathe but suddenly realized he couldn't. A large hand was wrapped around his throat and lifting him off the ground. His non-injured arm came up and tried to pry it off, but to no avail. He felt the pressure around his neck increasing as he struggled for breath, his legs dangling uselessly. He wanted to try to kick his way free, but logically knew that would only result in a broken toe against the Man of Steel.

"Supes! C'mon man! This isn't you!" He choked out, which only resulted in making the alien angry, if the red glow from his eyes was anything to go by. Wally's eyes went wide behind his cowl as he panicked.

"Clark! Stop!" The name must have been the right thing to say. The unusually angry face turned confused for just a moment and his grip loosened. Luckily, a moment was a long time for Wally and was all he needed to escape. As soon as his feet hit the ground he was off, stopping 2 blocks away. As much as he wanted to be as far away from a mind-controlled Superman as meta-humanly possible, he had to keep him within seeing distance. The last thing he wanted was the guy to attack civilians. Luckily, most had evacuated when the fight with Grodd had begun. It had just been the two of them, as GL, J'onn and Hawkgirl were helping with a mudslide in Central America. Hopefully they were finishing up soon. This left Batman on monitor duty and Diana reserved in case another call came in and she was needed. Well, you know what? Screw that, she was needed here! Now! He stopped to catch his breath, ignoring the pain in his arm while reaching up to his ear. What the hell was taking them so long?!

"Hello?!" He shouted. That is all he could get to say before the breathe was knocked out him by what felt like a locomotive slamming into his side. Strong hands gripped his shoulders as his feet left the ground. His body was pushed through the air before smashing into the side of a parking garage. He didn't even have time to think before the grip was around his neck again. Superman pulled him out of the hole in the cement wall before turning and throwing him down the street. It was strange, usually Supes (or GL) was the one who caught him when other bad guys with super strength threw him around like a rag doll. With no one there to catch him, he landed at a bus stop, destroying a perfectly good bench in the process. Wally's breathing was harsh. He was pretty sure a few ribs had been broken, and he was almost positive he had a concussion. He rolled over onto splintered wood, trying to bring himself to his feet. He looked up and locked eyes with Superman and felt his heart drop. He'd never seen that look in his friend's eyes before. A look of pure hatred. The look said "I want you dead and I won't stop until I get what I want." Clark lunged towards him again, Wally just managed to dodge before the hit connected. The momentum took the alien right through the window of a donut shop.

Wally managed to make it to his feet, leaning against a stop sign for support. He shook his head as his vision began to blur. Contrary to what others may believe, he wasn't an idiot. He knew this was a fight he wasn't going to win. Right now, his only goal was not to die. Not only would that totally suck and probably hurt, he wasn't sure Clark would be able to live with himself. And Bruce would never get to have sex with him again, and let's be real, he's pretty great in bed. It would just be better for everyone involved if he remained living, so that is what he was going to do, dammit. Hopefully. It would've been a lot easier if he could've just ran away. But someone needed to make sure Clark didn't go on a angry-mind-controlled-rampage, and he also wanted to keep the damage contained.

And for the love of God, what was taking Diana so long?! Then he remembered- the teleporters were down and she would have to take a javelin. He cursed to himself, and then again when he realised he had lost visual on Superman. Huh, wasn't Supes the one who once told him " _Don't take your eyes off him I said, not even for a second!"?_

He looked back into the broken window, but the Man of Steel wasn't anywhere to be seen. Next thing he knew, he was on the ground and his leg hurt. God, his leg hurt. Why does everyone always go for the legs? Sure, his superpower is mostly running and that is kind of hard to do with a broken leg, but _still._ Don't they know that broken legs _hurt?_ Especially when the fucker's go for the femur. It's honestly so rude. At least for him, they usually heal pretty quick. But that still doesn't make it hurt any less. So yeah, if you haven't gathered, Superman had come from God Knows Where and taken out his left leg, which was now hopelessly, painfully, obviously broken. And to top it off, then he punched him in the face. Again. He was kneeling over Wally, gripping his neck again to keep him still and hold him down on the ground.

Not for the first time in the past 10 minutes, Wally was scared. Now he couldn't run. He couldn't defend himself (not that he was doing such a great job at it anyway). He was at mind-controlled Superman's mercy, and mind-controlled Superman didn't seem keen on granting him any at the moment. That was only confirmed when the Kryptonian's deadly eyes started glowing red again. This time, he didn't have a way out. Wally clenched his teeth and shut his eyes as tight as he could and turned his head to the side in a last ditch attempt at self-preservation just as the twin beams of heat left Clark's eyes. The redhead felt a burning pain on the side of his head for just a second before it was gone. All of it, the heat, the weight holding him down, and the hand on his neck as well. For a moment, he thought it was all gone because he was dead. But then he realized that his arm and leg and ribs and face and pretty much his entire body was still painfully broken and he could smell something resembling burnt hair in the air. He fought the urge to pass out and opened his eyes, using his good arm to push himself up a little.

In the middle of the street, Superman was lying on the ground, an angry red mark on his face. He looked to be in much more pain than any normal punch could did a punch even leave a mark? Wally had thought about running around the world and punching the guy, but then his hand would've been added to the list of broken bones. Anyway, his explaination came in the form of Batman, standing intimidatingly in front of Superman. His gloved fist emitting a green light. Kryptonite. Wally wasn't sure what happened next, as his body decided now was the _perfect_ time to pass out.

 **ooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoo**

"He didn't mean-"

"He could've killed you. He would've killed you."

"But he _didn't!"_ Bruce scoffed and turned away from the redhead. For a moment Wally thought that he was leaving but realized he was just checking the monitors on the opposite wall. Satisfied by the improvements of the readings, he crossed the expanse of the medbay once more and returned to the speedster's side. They both silently looked each other over for a few tense moments before Bruce finally sighed and carefully took a seat on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on Wally's knee and squeezed gently, frowning when the edge of his hand hit the top of the cast covering the leg. Wally saw the look and spoke up.

"You can't stay mad at him forever."

"I can try."

"That's not fair, Bruce. It wasn't his fault. You know it wasn't." Bruce stayed quiet, refusing to meet Wally's eyes. This wasn't like any other time one of them had been injured in a fight. The difference being that this time, Wally had been beaten senseless by a teammate. A friend.

"If anything, it's my fault!" Wally continued, "I'm the reason Grodd has powers like that in the first place.. 'n I'm the one who's always throwing him in jail. Can't blame him for wanting to get me out of the way."

At this Bruce looks back up at the redhead. Wally hasn't seen his attacker in the 8 hours since he woke up in the hospital bed. Bruce had made it very clear he didn't want the alien anywhere near the medbay until further notice. Honestly, he wasn't sure the guy could've handled seeing Wally when they had first brought him to the tower. The Kryptonian had unknowingly done a number on the speedster, and that was putting it lightly. It was probably for the best that Clark couldn't remember a thing. The guilt was already eating him alive just knowing he'd hurt the kid at all. (Although at 26 years old, Wally would object to being called a kid. And as his older lover, Bruce would also object to him being called a kid.)

"It wasn't your fault. If I'd have fixed the transporters earlier we would've gotten there before-"

"Oh no you don't! You're not doing this again!" Wally interrupted, attempting to sit up straight in inclined bed only to be gently pushed down by a hand on his bare chest. Wally instantly regretted the attempt as it jostled his still healing ribs.

"And what is it that I am doing?" Bruce questioned, though he knew exactly what the redhead was referring too. He distracted himself from the conversation by reaching up to unwrap the gauze and tape from Wally's head. Luckily the burn wasn't too bad, the beams of heat only hitting his hair and skin for a second or two before Wonder Woman had left the javelin and tackled Superman. She'd kept him busy for a few seconds while Bruce landed the javelin, then he pulled out the kryptonite while she got Wally out of there. In hindsight, Bruce had probably gone too hard on the guy. After all, it _was_ mind control. But at that point, Bruce wasn't even positive that Wally was _alive._ So in the end, if it takes Superman a few extra hours to completely recover, then, well, so be it.

"You know damn well what. Coming up with illogical reasons as to why this would somehow be your fault." Wally went to cross his arms over his chest, but the cast on his right and IV in his left stopped him.

"You just did the same thing." Bruce countered. He stood from the bed and moved to re-dress the wound on the speedster's head. Wally frowned for a moment before sighing.

"Fine, it wasn't my fault, your fault, or Clark's. The only one at fault was a big dumb gorilla. Who also happens to be a super genius with mind control powers." Even without the cowl on, Bruce was a difficult man to read. While Wally was one of few people who could, as he watched him carefully he had to admit he wasn't sure what the other man was thinking. He saw Bruce's eyes narrow as he caught another glimpse of the dark bruises surrounding his neck. They were already beginning to heal, the outer edges were a lighter yellow color. But the unmistakable shape of a hand was still there. The dark haired man bit his tongue and (gently, as not to jostle his numerous injuries) pulled him closer so he could press a kiss to the top of his head. He buried his face in the red hair and took a deep breathe to calm himself before standing up again, but softly holding the speedster's head against him. Part of him still wanted to blame Clark, wanted to keep the alien as far away as possible from the speedster at all times. The other, more logical part of him knew that Clark was their friend. They both trusted him with their lives, in fact he had saved their lives on multiple occasions. He also knew how protective the entire team was of Wally. He hadn't seen Clark since knocking him unconscious with a well placed kryptonite-infused punch and dragging him into the javelin. As soon as he returned to the watchtower, he'd switched places with Diana so she took care of Superman while he worked on getting Wally patched up. Last he heard, J'onn, John, and Shayera were on their way back, and lets just say he wouldn't want to be Clark when the latter two found out who put Wally in the medbay.

"I really need to talk to Supes...Poor guy." Bruce's eyes narrowed as he let go of Wally so he could pull away. His head turned so he could look up at him.

"And I think _you_ really need to talk to him too." Wally finished before lying back down on the bed. The bandages and bruises only proved to make the injured hero looked even younger than he really was. Besides that, he looked exhausted. Granted, it was 3am, at least it was in Central City. (Time got a little confusing up in the Watchtower, seeing as many of their homes were in different time zones.) His left eye was still mostly swollen shut from the black eye Supes had given him on the first hit. To be fair, he hadn't been expecting that one at all. But his good eye was having trouble staying open as he fought sleep. Bruce sighed, ignoring Wally's comment for now, knowing they'd have to speak to the other man sooner or later.

"We'll talk to him in the morning, I promise. Get some rest." He reached across the bed to even out the blanket he'd draped across the speedster, and leaned in to capture his lips in a quick kiss before pulling away. Wally's eyes were shut, and he would've thought he was already asleep if it hadn't been for the soft voice mumbling, "will you stay?" Bruce leaned back in and kissed him again, softer this time.

"Of course." was whispered against Wally's lips as he pulled back. The only sign that the redhead even heard what he said was the small smile on his face before he let sleep win the battle.

 **ooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoo**

A soft knock on the door startled Bruce awake. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to doze off in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed, but according to the clock on the wall he's been out for a few hours. He scooted the chair back and stood, pulling his hand away from Wallys. The redhead mumbled something and shifted in the bed, but didn't wake up. Bruce went to see who was at the door, though he had a feeling he knew who it was. Shayera and John had been by after they returned from their mission, somwhere between Wally falling asleep and himself doing the same. J'onn came in to check Wally's vitals and replace his IV drips at about 6:30am. He'd left behind a note with the time and readings for Bruce to see when he woke up. Diana had already come to see Wally a few times, most being in first few hours after they returned to the watchtower after she'd made sure Clark was okay. The exposure to Kryptonite always took a lot out of the Man of Steel, but it had been nessessary in this case.

Bruce turned the handle and opened the door, standing face to face with one of his best friends, but also the man who nearly murdered the love of his life. To be honest, he'd been thinking about it for hours, and he still wasn't sure what to feel towards Clark right now. He wanted to be understanding, because he was aware aware that the guy hadn't been in control of his actions. That he thought of Wally as family, loved him, and would never want to hurt him. Hell, his Lord counterpart had broken his most sacred "no killing" rule because of Wally. Yet Bruce also wanted to be angry at him. Put on the Kryptonite gloves and go another round just to see him in as much pain as Wally had been in.

Right now, Clark didn't look like the "Man of Steel"; like the most powerful superhero on earth. He looked tired, stressed, and anything but invulnerable. It wasn't everyday someone with an intimidating 6'4", 275 pound frame looked small, but thats exactly how we looked. He was having trouble meeting Bruce's eyes, his face showing nothing but remorse. Bruce finally broke the silence.

"Clark."

"Bruce." His voice sounded as rough as he looked, like he'd been crying. Resisting the urge to slam the door in his face, Bruce opened it the rest of the way and stepped aside. After a quick look at Wally for the reminder to play nice, he gestured for Clark to enter. With a thankful nod he did. He slowly moved towards the bed. Bruce descretly placed himself between the the alien and sleeping redhead. He wasn't sure if Clark noticed, and in all honestly didn't really care. While John had confirmed that Grodd's mind control is disrupted when the host is knocked unconscious, Bruce still wasn't 100% comfortable having Clark around Wally right now.

"God, Wally. I'm so sorry.." Clark mumbled, stepping closer to the bed. He'd ditch the uniform for the time being, dressed in only a white tshirt and black track pants. He didn't miss the lump under the sheets indicating the broken leg, and with a quick x-ray vision-enhanced look he took inventory of the damage he'd caused. Broken leg, broken arm, 3 broken ribs, 2 cracked ribs, a cracked cheekbone. And that was just the fractures. Who knew what kind of injuries to the internal organs he'd sustained. Well, Bruce knew, but he wasn't going to go into it now.

Clark wasn't sure if he wanted Wally to wake up now or not. He wanted, he _needed_ to talk to him. He needed to apologize, although the others had assured him that Wally wouldn't hold anything against him. And while the logical part of him knew that, part of him was terrified that Wally wouldn't be comfortable around him ever again. That he'd be _afraid_ of him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice, and followed it to find that Wally had woken up. He didn't say anything, just watched the redhead, trying to read how he was reacting to the proximity. Last time he'd seen him, he'd been fully prepared to be killed by him. But his heart rate remained the same. His eyes held no signs of fear and a smile graced his young face.

"Hey Supes..feelin' any better?" Clark just stared in disbelief. What was Wally doing asking if _he_ was okay? _He_ wasn't the one in a hospital bed. Well, not anymore anyway. He shook his head, disregarding the question.

"Wally, I'm sor-"

"Nope. You've got nothing to be sorry about. I don't hold grudges against anyone when mind-controllin' monkeys are involved."

"But-"

"The only one in the wrong here was Grodd. And I almost feel bad for the guy, 'cuz I'm pretty sure Shay is gonna play baseball with his head after this." He said with another smile, and Clark peeked up and saw that even Bruce was smiling in that hidden way he does. The Dark Knight had moved to the other side of the bed, feeling less defensive now that Wally was awake and aware. Clark smiled in relief that Wally was up for his usual jokes, although he was fairly certain that Wally wasn't kidding about that last part. Shayera didn't mess around when people messed with Wally. None of them did. That is why it pained Clark so much to know that it had been _his_ fists, eyes, his body that did this to their friend. He took a deep breathe before continuing.

"We're gonna have J'onn evaluate you and I both whenever you're feeling up to it." Wally nodded.

"Makes sense."

"Can I ask you something?" At the speedster's nod and curious look, he continued. "How are you so comfortable around me right now? I was sure you'd be at least a little jumpy. I mean, from what Diana told me, I almost...God, Wally. I almost killed you." Clark finished, his voice cracking and his head falling shamefully. He looked up again when he felt a hand grab his.

"Bruce thought I'd be nervous too. Maybe you had to be there, but, the look you gave me? There was no way that was you. No way you had any idea what was going on. We've been friends for years, I know you, big guy. And the friend I know would never look at me, look at _anyone_ the way the guy that I fought did. It's like, after that, I totally dissassociated you with him. So like, yeah it looked like you and everything, but I knew it _wasn't you_. Hopefully that made sense." Wally finished weakly. Clark nodded slowly, trying to understand Wally's logic.

"If it didn't, you could blame the concussion." Any there Bruce was, making a joke. Which means he was content enough with Clark for the moment. Another huge weight off of Clark's shoulders. Seriously, what's worse than having The Batman angry with you? Not much. Bruce decided that if Wally could be forgiving, then so could he. Although he did plan on keeping the kryptonite gloves around for a while longer. Just in case.

 **Ahhhh Bats. Trust nobody.**


End file.
